


Purple Coloured Nightmares

by orphan_account



Series: DOTCP [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Blood, DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE ANGST AND SUFFERING, Denial, Established Relationship, M/M, Major Character Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Painful angst, There is basically no happy ending, basically an alternative continuation from DOTCP chapt. 19, but not really? you can read if you like angst i guess, need to read the original story to understand i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-12 02:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Lance finds out about Keith's critical state, he goes into a numb kind of determined mind-set, if Keith's heart is still beating, he's still alive.~ This is an alternative continuation from Chapter 19. of Dreaming Of The Colour PurpleYou can read from the beginning and find the link in the notes at the end of Chapter 19, or begin reading from here, as long as you like angst you're in good hands.





	1. Déni

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone starting the story from here -  
> Keith is a fighter pilot in the Galaxy Garrison, he and Lance have an established relationship in this fic and Lance is back on earth at college studying to become a gunner in the Galaxy Garrison.  
> If you want more context, read from the beginning of Dreaming of the Colour Purple here ~  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11047977/chapters/24629523

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s NOT DEAD.” Lance all but screamed. “He’s not DEAD. Do you not understand what ‘critical condition’ means?! Why are you signing his life away when you’ve not even seen for yourself that that coffin is FUCKING EMPTY.”

Lance was stood, stock-still at the edge of his worst nightmare. In reality he was stood at the doors of the coffee shop, gazing in at the darkness, the darkened form of Shiro sobbing, a sight… he never imagined seeing in his entire life.

He pressed his hand flat against the door of the coffee shop, willing Shiro to turn and see him, to open the door, to tell him what news he had. But then again, it was probably going to be the most devastating news he’d ever hear.

His head slowly joined his hand against the glass, the night felt long, the night felt darker than it ever had done before. Finally, Shiro’s shaking shoulders turned and he saw Lance with a blank expression on his face, like a ghost pressed up against the glass. It took all of Shiro’s will-power to stand and approach, unlocking the door.

Shiro just stared at him, red eyed, cheeks stained with tears. He was broken, and Lance didn’t have the emotional capacity at that moment to even process it. Lance stumbled past him and sat at a table, his hands on oak surface, trying to control the shaking that couldn’t be escaped.

“Lance.” Shiro’s voice nearly crushed him. “I-I, Keith…. He’s.”

Lance realised at this moment that not even Shiro could fathom what it was he was supposed to tell Lance, he resolved that it meant that Keith… was probably, Lance shuddered, dead.

But… right now, seeing Shiro in this state. He just felt numb. He stood and turned to Shiro, who was shuddering violently once more, bundled him up in his arms and took him upstairs, he could pretend for a little while that this wasn’t about him.

He let Shiro collapse beside him on the sofa, his head on Lance’s chest, hoping that the steady rhythm of his heartbeat would calm him a little, Lance refused to let his mind wander about the possibilities, about who or what did this, about the repercussions it might have. Instead he concentrated on the sound of Shiro’s once disjointed breaths slowly become relaxed and stable. Once he knew that Shiro was asleep, he let himself drift off, hoping that he’d wake up and this would all just be a very, very bad dream.

But instead, Lance awoke to the cold air around him, Shiro was gone and there was a deathly silence in the apartment. He could see through the window that it was a hideously gloomy day, not a shred of blue sky was visible, his heart picked up speed when turned and saw Shiro sat at his breakfast table, a trembling cup of coffee clutched in his hand. He was staring, hard at the air, eyebrows knit together in a kind of quiet rage.

“Shiro?” Lance finally said, filling the dead air with noise, which seemed to hurt Shiro physically as he tensed up suddenly.

“Lance. Keith is in an extremely critical condition.” Shiro had gone full military. “He has little to no chance of pulling through.”

Lance thought about that for a second. His heart was completely snapped in two, but… he was still alive. Wasn’t he? Critical condition didn’t mean dead. Critical condition didn’t mean dead. Lance was repeating it like a mantra, like a religious phrase.

But Lance still hadn’t said anything, his splintered heart was in his throat, but… little to no chance still meant that there was a chance. And that was something he could cling onto, even if it was the thinnest shred of a chance, as long as he could get a good grip on it, he would hang on for as long as it took. The longer that there was a chance, the stronger and bigger that chance got.

Fate and destiny, they had plans. They had to have had plans if Keith wasn’t quite dead. Lance was never one to rely on fate, but this meant something. Keith was always a big believer in divine providence, maybe Lance could be too.

 

Lance hadn’t seen or heard from Shiro or Allura for weeks now. He was staring at Hanzo on the windowsill, drooping sadly, withered and tired. Lance hadn’t even thought about looking after himself let alone the plant.

Hunk and Pidge kept telling him that it was okay, it was okay to start grieving. But Lance wasn’t grieving, he was angry. He was angry that all of Keith’s closest friends had just totally given up on him, and that they wanted him to give up too.

Lance considered this lack of information as positive, as the famous saying went – no news is good news. He was bundled up in his sheets, gazing at the wall were Keith used to be. Scattered and disjointed memories of things that he was never there for. He hated that he didn’t have those photos right now, Allura did and he didn’t think he could go there and ask for them. He was sick of people telling him that ‘it’s okay’ when it’s not. It’s not okay to grieve for someone who isn’t dead, in-fact it’s downright disrespectful.

As far as Lance was concerned, Keith had been in “critical condition” for almost three weeks, which for Lance was next to Keith being in the clear, back on his feet, back to duty as normal. The chance he was holding onto had quadrupled in size, he had to hold it in two hands.

There was a knock at the door, a familiar… sad knock.

“Hunk.” Lance muttered, the door opened and sure enough, Hunk walked in. A solemn look on his face that he wore every time Lance saw him.

“Lance, I thought I should tell you.” Hunk’s voice was much quieter nowadays. “That the funeral is next week.”

“Alfor’s funeral?” Lance inquired, trying to sound casual. Hunk nodded with his eyes shut, Lance knew he wanted to say more, but held his tongue. “Have you heard anything from Shiro?”

“No… nothing.”

“Allura?”

“No…”

Lance just quietly nodded and stopped talking, Hunk took that as a request for him to leave, so he did. Closing the door softly behind him. Lance continued staring at Hanzo, his leaves were beginning to get crisp and brown, several of them had fallen into the soil, which was so dry that even if he tried to water it, it’d probably just run off the soil and away, like the desert he was so used to back home.

His mom had tried to call him multiple times, but he wasn’t sure he could deal with his mothers’  emotions, just another person telling him, no… forcing him, to mourn over something that wasn’t even certain. Fate wasn’t cruel, Keith was fated for glory, for victory, to be the greatest hero in the universe, this wasn’t going to be the thing that ended him. No way, Lance couldn’t believe that.

He was alone with his own thoughts so much that he could almost see messages from Keith popping up on his phone, recreations of previous pictures, him and Rolo laughing happily, testing weapons, going on excursions and missions, being bad-asses in space. Little messages telling Lance that he missed him, that everything was great, pictures of his scars and pictures of Coran giving him a thumbs up next to Keith.

 

Finally the day of Alfor’s funeral arrived. Lance was waiting at his apartment with Hunk and Pidge. They’d forced him into a black suit and convinced him to come, but they were both a little… hesitant as well. Lance figured that this was just something that needed to be done, he did care about Alfor, he really did. But he wasn’t sure how he’d face Allura, knowing that Keith was still alive.

A black car pulled up outside the apartment, it was pouring with rain, Lance considered something bittersweet about pathetic fallacy and climbed into the car with Hunk and Pidge. Shiro and Allura were already inside, silently regarding Lance… trying to judge how he was feeling. Lance tried a simpering smile but it took off like a lead balloon and everyone stared at him.

“How are you feeling, Allura?” Pidge asked, Allura glanced up, thrilled for the distraction, Lance was equally as thrilled to have the attention taken off him.

“I’m feeling as well as I can, thank-you, Pidge.” Allura smiled, her smile was sad but it was there. “I’m glad that you could all make it. I feel as though we’re going to need you.”

Lance ignored the plural.

“Is Coran going to be there?” Hunk asked, Allura nodded simply, her bottom lip quivering as she locked eyes with Lance, a pained expression in her eyes as they approached the cemetery.

Lance looked away quickly, the guilt thick in the pit of his stomach. The car pulled up and they saw a huge crowd of people all waiting with black umbrellas. Alfor would have been thrilled to see so many people who cared about him all in one place, just… it wasn’t under the best of circumstances, Lance was glad to be a part of that, even if the guilt was eating him up inside. They stepped out of the car into the rain, and Lance enjoyed the feeling of it on his skin. He had been inside so long that this recent bout of bad weather had pretty much passed him by. He refused an umbrella when Shiro offered it and followed the group to the front of the congregation.

Lance spotted with a huge rush of blood-thirsty anger that there were two coffins. He bit his tongue, maybe it was someone else’s?

“Who’s the other one for?” Lance asked, not bothering to worry if he sounded unsympathetic.

“Lance, you know who it’s for.” Pidge was terse with him. Lance shook his head, droplets of water flicking from the hair on his head that was so grown out that he had bangs falling across his forehead.

“No, no I don’t.” Lance continued.

“Lance. It’s for Keith. Stop being like that.” Pidge’s fists were clenched, one hand clenched around the end of her umbrella so tight that Lance feared she might snap the handle. Her eyes were so full of emotion, tears beginning to form at the edges with an exasperated kind of grief.

“Why would there be a coffin for Keith, Pidge?” Lance spoke with a vitriol he didn’t know he was capable of. “He’s not dead. Why is there an empty coffin here?!”

“Lance.” Shiro placed a heavy hand on Lance’s soaking wet shoulder. “Please, not now.”

“Not now what, Shiro.” Lance was having trouble containing himself in front of all these people, some were starting to turn and stare. “Don’t you think it’s a bit disrespectful to have a funeral for someone that isn’t even dead.”

“Lance, Please.” Shiro continued, his voice lower now, more terrifying than ever, but Lance wasn’t scared.

“Shiro, I don’t think you’re understanding what I’m saying.” Lance gritted his teeth. “I thought you of all people _would_ understand. Keith. Isn’t. Dead. Why are you doing this?! Why are you pretending he’s gone when he’s not?! Why are you so fucking quick to give up on him?”

Now everyone was staring. Allura and Coran who were stood by the graveside were staring with devastated looks in their eyes, Allura looked like she was in horrific physical pain.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Hunk interjected, where Lance was certain no one was welcome. “Why are you kidding yourself like this? Isn’t this more painful for you? To pretend that someone who is dead is still alive?”

“Hunk…” Pidge said warningly, feeling the rage emanating from Lance’s shaking form.

“He’s NOT DEAD.” Lance all but screamed. “He’s not DEAD. Do you not understand what ‘critical condition’ means?! Why are you signing his life away when you’ve not even seen for yourself that that coffin is FUCKING EMPTY.”

Lance could see out of the corner of his eye that he was about to be manhandled away by two angry-looking military personnel. If he was going to make them believe him, he had to prove it he didn't care if he was being ridiculous, he didn't care if he was making a scene. He tore away from Shiro’s hold on his shoulder and raced over to Allura and Coran. She held out her hands to try and stop him but he pushed past, he stood in front of Keith’s coffin, his Garrison photo framed on top, his beautiful deep eyes glittering with so much excitement and wonder, Lance hardly recognized him. He picked up the frame and threw it to the ground and used all of his might and adrenaline fuelled strength and wrenched open the mahogany casket, he could hear yelling all around him but he ignored it as he pulled the lid open.

Even as he was being dragged away by endlessly strong and usually terrifying officers, the victorious feeling in his chest swelled as he continued to stare at the empty coffin before him, thrilled to his very core that he was right. Keith’s body was nowhere to be found.

 

When the officers had let him out of the holding cell the next day, there was no one waiting for him which he would be stupid if he said he were surprised. He stepped out, still in his funeral suit, into the once more pouring rain. He knew he was about an hour and a half drive from his apartment, his phone had destroyed by the water from the rain, he had no other option than to walk.

He walked until he got to a sign-post telling him he was now 60 miles from home, which… at the rate he was walking he’d probably get there as the sun was setting, or even later. But the numbness in his legs kept him moving, he didn’t even feel the ache after the first hour walking.

He was watching the stones skip as he kicked them when he heard a car pull up beside him, the last person he expected to come and find him was sat in the car, looking up at him with eyes full of anger and yet, understanding.

“Coran.” Lance nodded at him, stuffing his hands in his pockets, not making a move to enter the car, even though now that he’d stopped the pain was staring to flood through his legs.

“Lance, get in the car.” Coran’s voice was stern but… not angry, which was not what Lance had expected at all. Lance looked at the car, it wasn’t black with tinted windows, there were no Garrison secret police stashed in the back ready to stab him in the neck with a needle and erase his memory. He shrugged, rounded the car and climbed in.

Coran turned in the road and drove back towards Lance’s apartment. The silence was heavy in the air, there was a lot that Coran obviously wanted to say, but wasn’t entirely sure how Lance would react to any of it.

“Just, say it, Coran.” Lance sighed heavily, leaning his head against the car window as the world went rattling by.

“Lance… I don’t want to lie to you,” Coran stared straight ahead at the road. “But, I don’t want to tell you the truth either, both… is hard. What I’m about to tell you is… strictly classified, even I shouldn’t know this information. But… you’re right that Keith isn’t dead but-“

“I knew it!” Lance cried, happy in a way to know that what other people had seen as crazy and paranoid wasn’t so insane.

"Lance." Coran warned. "I know you're sick and tired of hearing these words but.. you have to let yourself grieve. This insane conviction that he's still alive will be the thing that kills you, and seriously hurt those around you."

“But, Lance, even though he is still alive,” Coran continued, trying not to let Lance’s hopes get out of control. “He is clinging onto the tiniest semblance of life. His heart is beating blood around his body but his brain doesn’t work, he can’t move his limbs, he is not the Keith that you know and he never will be. The kind of damage he took has rendered him completely brain dead, and is so severe that he will never recover.”

That should have broken Lance, convinced him that he should lose hope and that he should give up, but… Keith’s heart was still working. He couldn’t help but… attach that to the emotional existence of his heart, as long as his heart was there and working…

“Lance, it’s very important to me that you let him go.” Coran’s voice had a vigorous finality to it. “Nothing you or anyone could do will change anything. He is as good as dead.”

“Then why, is his heart still working?” Lance was fumbling with his seatbelt. “Why would they keep his heart alive when… when they know he’ll never recover? That must MEAN something to them, there must be a reason why they’re keeping him alive.”

“He’s not alive, Lance. His heart is beating but he is not living.” Coran was trying to stress it to him so heavily. “He has no soul, no emotions, he wouldn’t know who you are. It’s just a body!”

Lance’s heart was in agony, there was no doubt about that. He was heartbroken, he should have been grieving he knew should have been, but… there was something deep inside him telling him that Keith could survive this, and the more that Coran told him, the more he believed that was true.

Maybe he was crazy, maybe he was kidding himself, and maybe he was in denial. But he couldn’t give up on Keith, because Keith sure as hell wouldn’t have given up on him. No matter what. And Lance knew in that moment that he had to keep those promises he’d made, he’d get through college, get into space and destroy the fuckers that hurt Keith if it was the last thing he’d ever do, Lance had never thought he’d ever feel the need to wreak vengeance against someone.

But now, the hunters were about to become the hunted.

 

Keith still wasn’t entirely sure how or when it all happened, was it an unexpected ambush of sorts? All he could remember was that one second he was fast asleep dreaming of the colour purple and the next, he was wide awake, in the cockpit, his lungs worn out from yelling so loudly, explosions and gun fire all around him, he could hear voices coming through his comms. They’d been over this a million times, they had strategy, they had protocol but in this instance, none of that seemed to matter. Keith was trying to focus on what he had to do, but all he could think about was Lance. His mind was racing, thinking ‘He won’t survive without me, he won’t survive without me.’ Like him repeating that phrase in his head was going to make any shred of difference. He could hear Alfor’s familiar voice requesting assistance and then… there was silence. It seemed like it was over. One of their ships had exploded and set off a chain reaction, causing the enemy ships to explode one by one, and there were seemingly none left. It felt like Keith was the only one still out there… there was endless silence until suddenly, he heard an explosion the likes of which he’d never heard before, coming from the opposite side of where the last enemies had come from.

He knew then that this was probably the end of him, the violent, excruciating pain that engulfed his entire body was too much to bear, his eyes felt like they were burning and his chest was filling with so much blood he didn’t even have the air within them to try and cough it out. He saw an intense flash of pale yellow blind him for a second and then there was darkness.

There was only the darkness and him, he felt as though he were floating almost into the endless ether. Maybe this was what it was like to die, but there was no light for him to approach, only palpable, vehement darkness. Everything felt calm, but there was an underlying terror that curdled in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t supposed to have happened like this, he wasn’t supposed to be here and Keith knew enough about destiny to know that. Something had changed, something that the stars or fate or anyone couldn’t have predicted. And now, Lance was alone.

Keith couldn’t cope with that. That after everything it was just… over, and to just be here like none of it had ever mattered, because fuck, it mattered to Keith.

He suddenly felt a force so aggressive and all-consuming that he struggled against it, he was being pulled back through the darkness, everything went a blinding yellow colour once more and he awoke.

He was actually awake, but… his eyes weren’t open. He’d heard about out of body experiences before but kind of thought that it was ridiculous, only now it didn’t seem so unbelievable. Because there he was, he could see the deep purple of the room he was in. A quick glance around immediately told him that this was Garrison property, but there was something strange and sinister about it. He gazed down at himself… which was something he’d never thought would ever happen, and saw what was left of his body. His face was pale and gaunt, eyes closed but he was so physically lifeless that Keith could hardly believe it.

That was the thing about seeing a dead body, you look at them and you just… know. There’s something missing and it’s not like they just look like they’re asleep, there’s a stillness that even the deepest of sleep couldn’t replicate.

Keith knew then and there that he was dead. So… why was he here, and why was his body strapped up to all of these machines, why was there a heart beat on the monitor, what was that yellow stuff that was being pumped into him. Why were they bothering to keep his heart beating?

From the look of some of the machines attached to him by wires, it looked as though they were taking samples of sorts, running tests on his cadaver. Was this normal protocol for the garrison to do after there had been deaths, were the other fatalities having the same treatment? Of course they sometimes did autopsies on the bodies they could find, but what was there to investigate so… closely? He wasn’t in the medical centre very often, but he had never seen this yellow, almost glittering fluid that they were pumping into him.

He supposed it didn’t matter at this point, he wasn’t alive to feel it… or to know what might come of it, but… he had been in the void, he’d been on the other side, so why had he been pulled back through? Maybe destiny was kicking her heels in, baring her teeth.

But more than anything, he wanted – no he needed – to know how Lance was, what he was feeling, if he’d heard anything yet or if they’d tell him about… all this. He thought about the many ways that Lance could take it, he knew in his heart of hearts that if Lance knew that he still had blood pumping through his veins, he was as good as alive. Which only served to sever Keith’s fragile heart into two, he could imagine that determination, the anger fueling his drive, because Keith knew that was what he’d be doing if it were the other way around.

He thought about their star-gazing, the way that Lance held him, the way that Lance kissed him and he felt himself collapse onto the floor, the heart rate on the monitor stuttered, he could see the dials on the machines testing his dead body flickering at the response to his emotional trauma. He was still connected in some sort of way. It gutted him completely, he could have suffered knowing that there was nothing he could do, but now… this strong emotion had sparked something in his seemingly dead body. That meant that maybe, maybe he could get his fate back on the right path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr - foxsmo-lder


	2. Colère

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No Shiro, don’t apologise.” Hunk stepped forward. “And Pidge, it’s nothing to do with you, I think we all know who’s to blame for our inability to work as a team.”
> 
> “Oh. Do we?” Lance’s voice was full of vitriol. It was like he was incapable of being soft anymore. Hunk turned to him, with anger deep set in his features.
> 
> “Yes, Lance.” Hunk continued, trying to hold himself back from advancing on him threateningly. “It’s you. You’re being delusional and selfish. As always, you’ve made it about yourself above anyone else. You’re the reason we can’t work together.”

Pidge was leant against the windowsill, this miserable weather hadn’t let up since they day they found out about Alfor and Keith. A lot of things had gone through Pidge’s mind since then, obviously she was devastated, she’d started her grieving process… but Lance wasn’t wrong… that coffin was empty.

She’d just assumed that it was the grief of heartbreak that was making him delusional, but… she couldn’t help but have the tiniest bit of doubt, where was Keith’s body? If he was dead… why _were_ they keeping him? They must have their reasons, why then were they lying about it? Coran didn’t even really seem to have an explanation as to why Keith’s body wasn’t there, and he was supposed to be in command since Alfor had died.

Lance had been quiet ever since Alfor and Keith’s funerals, his face seemed to be set in a grim expression constantly, if he made eye contact it was like it physically hurt him. He was just angry. Everything was just so… messy and Pidge hated it, she missed Keith more than anything, he was like a brother to her, but she hated what it was doing to Lance more. He still hadn’t called his mother, he hadn’t visited home, he was studying non-stop and barely sleeping.

Since he’d caused a scene at the funeral, he was on his second strike. If he stepped another toe out of line, he’d be kicked out of college and banned from the Garrison, so he kept his mouth shut and his head down. Pidge missed him.

The apartment felt dead, save for Hunk trying to cook a couple of meals and serving them to Lance, only for them to be left outside his bedroom door, untouched. Hunk eventually gave up.

When their exam came around, Pidge and Hunk insisted on walking to the exam hall together with Lance, they’d been given an extension due to the circumstances. They strolled in silence, the rain pouring, Lance again refused an umbrella, as if he needed to feel the rain.

Pidge wished Lance good luck, but he didn’t even look at her as they entered the exam hall and sat down. Within an hour Lance slammed his hand down on the desk, stood and handed in his paper and left. He didn’t wait for Pidge or Hunk.

Pidge dragged Hunk to the coffee shop, desperate to get some normalcy back.

“I just… I don’t know what we’re going to do.” Pidge sighed, pushing open the door to the coffee shop, Hunk following closely behind. “He’s just… I don’t know, he’s not handling it well.”

Hunk stayed quiet, he didn’t really have anything to say. It was almost like his grief was being quelled because of Lance’s strange inability to cope. Keith was his best friend, everyone seemed to forget that, even Keith towards the end. Hunk was bitter, and he hated being bitter.

As they approached the counter, Shiro appeared, he’d barely slept either, but he was handling it a lot more healthily than Lance was. He tried a failing smile, Pidge and Hunk knew his heart wasn’t in it, but they returned it in kind anyhow.

“How’s Lance?” Shiro asked, Hunk couldn’t help the eye-roll, he didn’t want to be like this, Lance was his friend.

“Not good.” Pidge simply responded with a shrug. He was probably back at the apartment, in his room, Pidge considered buying him a coffee. “He’s... angry. Really angry.”

Shiro sighed and nodded, and set to work making their drinks. They hadn’t seen Allura since the funeral either, Shiro said it was because she was throwing herself into her studies, she was learning to teach Art History, which was her major at college. Pidge had a feeling that Allura probably had other reasons.

They stood to the side as other customers came in, Pidge stared out of the window and then to Hunk, who had a similarly defeated, vaguely angry look on his face.

“Why is everything so messy…?” Pidge sighed, the tell-tale waver of her voice making Hunk flinch, he didn’t want to see her cry again. “When do things start to go back to normal?”

Hunk wished he had the answers, but he didn’t. He’d never had anyone this close to him die before, he’d been told by his mom that it happened with time, but… that was nothing that he hadn’t already said to Pidge before.

“I don’t know if it will.” He finally said. He heard Pidge take in a deep breath, sure it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but then, Hunk didn’t know what it was she needed to hear.

Shiro handed them their coffee’s and bid them farewell, Pidge once more pulled out her umbrella and held it over Hunk’s head too as they made their way back to the apartment. When they arrived they were met with the usual silence, with the sound of quiet movement coming from Lance’s room. Pidge was quietly happy that this was their final year, but she was also painfully aware of the fact that they had to be a team, with Lance the way he was… she wasn’t sure if they’d make it.

 

When classes started, Pidge’s fears were confirmed. Lance was just too aggressive, Hunk barely communicated and Shiro was just there, he was in military mode, doing what he had to, to get by. Pidge was hurting desperately, but she didn’t want all this effort, all these years spent at college to have gone to waste, but there was nothing she could do.

They stepped out of the simulator, a particularly terrible stint where Lance spent the entire time yelling at and criticising Shiro for not letting him destroy ships properly. Shiro remained quiet but Pidge could feel the rage that Hunk was trying desperately to keep to himself. Iverson glared between them, he’d sent the rest of the class away so Pidge was expecting the worst.

“What the hell was that?” Iverson’s voice was low. Shiro was staring at the ground, arms by his sides, Hunk had his arms folded, pouting angrily and Lance, well before Pidge knew what was happening Lance had his fists at the ready.

“McClain.” Iverson glowered, warningly. “You’re already on your second strike after your disrespectful performance at General Alfor and Captain Kogane’s funerals, don’t. push. Your. Luck. Cadet.”

Pidge could have sworn she heard Lance growl as he dropped his hands, Pidge was at least grateful for that.

“I understand you’ve all had a traumatic couple of months.” Iverson continued, closing his working eye and pacing back and forth in front of them. “But you need to pull it together. If you can’t cope with something like this, then you are not fit to be in the Galaxy Garrison, or any kind of military work whatsoever.”

Pidge heard Lance hiss beside her.

“You have two weeks, to get your act together as a team and individually.” Iverson stopped and glared each of them down, one by one. “Or you’ll be assigned to different teams, or worse, I’ll kick you out of this university myself.”

Pidge could tell at this point that Iverson was looking pointedly at Lance, whose fists clenched even tighter, if that were possible.

Iverson was met with a stony silence, so simply turned and left, pleased with the impact that he’d made.  
Pidge hated the silence between the team that followed. Shiro refused to look up and Lance appeared to be glaring after Iverson, hoping that he’d miraculously develop lazer-eyes and burn a hole right through him. Hunk looked close to… something, Pidge wasn’t sure if it was a break down or a murder.

The tension was so thick that Pidge thought she might choke on it, either that or her tears, she wasn’t entirely sure. She stepped forward at last and turned to the rest of her team, willing herself not to cry, she didn’t want this to seem weak.

“Guys.” Pidge started, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “Please. I know it’s been tough, but we have to get it together, I’m not giving up on this after all the hard work we’ve put in.”

Lance folded his arms and looked into the space behind Pidge.

“Sorry, Pidge.” Shiro spoke up, of course he would apologise, it wasn’t really him at all. It was Lance, and Hunk knew that and all of a sudden, he was fucking sick of being passive about it.

“No Shiro, don’t apologise.” Hunk stepped forward. “And Pidge, it’s nothing to do with you, I think we all know who’s to blame for our inability to work as a team.”

“Oh. Do we?” Lance’s voice was full of vitriol. It was like he was incapable of being soft anymore. Hunk turned to him, with anger deep set in his features.

“Yes, Lance.” Hunk continued, trying to hold himself back from advancing on him threateningly. “It’s you. You’re being delusional and selfish. As always, you’ve made it about yourself above anyone else. You’re the reason we can’t work together.”

“Excuse me.” Lance was seething now. Pidge winced and stepped back, Shiro didn’t even make a move to stop them. “What the fuck are you saying to me right now?”

“What everyone wants to say, but is too scared to say to your face.” Hunk’s voice was still low. “You’re being selfish, you’ve forgotten that you aren’t the only one that’s lost someone.”

“I haven’t fucking LOST anyone.” Lance took a step forward, his cheeks a deep, violent red. “Stop saying that. I’m not grieving for someone that isn’t dead, Hunk.”

“Lance, COME ON.” Hunk finally lost it. All of his resentment coming out all at once. He stepped forward and gripped Lance by the scruff of his collar. “Stop fucking doing this to yourself and to us. Keith. Is. DEAD.”

“No he’s not!” Lance shoved Hunk away from him aggressively. “I thought you were his best friend, Hunk. You of all people shouldn’t give up on him so fucking easily. It’s just because you’re weak and afraid, but I’M NOT AFRAID.”

“Oh wow.” Hunk winced. “I’m amazed that you remembered the fact that yes, Keith was in fact my best friend. And I knew him better and longer than you. I know that if Keith could see you now, he’d be disgusted with you. He’d be embarrassed.”

Lance reeled back, a fresh wave of anger flooding through him, Shiro was now stood in front of Pidge, backing away from them slowly.

“You unbelievable bastard.” Lance whispered, but his eyes were beginning to well up with tears. “How fucking dare you.”

“HOW DARE I?!” Hunk cried, thrusting a thumb to his own chest emphatically. “How dare you, Lance. How dare you be so wrapped up in the dead that you forgot about the living, the people that are still around you. The people that tried to help you, the people that care about you. You haven’t spoken to your own mother for weeks.”

Lance clamped his mouth shut.

“Just because you’re not handling this, just because you’re a delusional mess,” Hunk breathed. “Why does that mean that we have to suffer for it? If you don’t sort yourself out, we will all fail. You and I both know that there aren’t enough teams for us to be distributed, and if you keep lashing out at our professor, you’re going to be thrown out.”

Pidge found herself gripping onto Shiro’s arm, as if it’d keep her from falling.

“You aren’t the only person who lost Keith.” Hunk’s voice had some finality to it. Even if Lance tried to say anything more, Pidge knew that Hunk wasn’t going to listen. “We all miss him, and it kills me and everyone else every day. But I know that he’d be the first person to tell us to move on. Stop pushing us away.”

Hunk turned on his heel and walked away, Lance’s arms were hanging limply by his sides, mouth in a thin line, eyes well and truly glazed over.

 

Lance wasn’t a bastard. He knew that what Hunk had said was probably right, he had to stop making this about himself. But… he wasn’t right about Keith, no one was right about Keith. Keith was still alive, and Lance knew that he had to pretend to accept it if it meant they’d pass this year and he’d be able to prove them all wrong. He knew it, he felt it, Keith was alive.

In the months that followed, Lance did his duty, he shot his enemies in the simulator, he complied to the others’ requests and had dinner with Pidge and Hunk once a week like they wanted him to. He’d spent a lot of his life pretending that he was okay, he could do this too. He was sick, more than anything, of everyone telling him he was deluded, better to live a lie then have people constantly criticise you.

Iverson was pleased at the progress they were making and informed them that Coran was being kept updated on how they were doing, and he was pleased too. Lance was glad that his performance was believable, more than anything he just wanted to finish, get to the garrison, and destroy whoever or whatever did this awful thing to him.

He was constantly exhausted, they were working harder now than Lance ever knew he was capable of, the only thing that was keeping him going was the idea that he might see Keith again, that hope was driving him, and the anger he felt was keeping him alive, based on the fact he was barely eating or sleeping.

They managed to get through their final exam, much to everyone’s surprise. The entire journey Lance spent staring out at the window at the stars passing them by, they didn’t hold the same majesty for him anymore, they were just… there now. It made him think about the day he and Keith went to the space museum, everything was so… innocent and simple back then, it was barely two years ago and Lance felt twenty years older now.

It hurt him physically to think back to those times, so he just stopped thinking.

 

The day of their graduation Lance barely paid attention, he saw his mom, she cried when he held her after he’d collected his diploma, but Lance barely spoke. She looked at him with the same look he got from everyone else, a withering pity. She kept telling him how proud of him she was, but… Lance could barely even give her a smile in return.

Rolo had been there to offer them each positions in the Galaxy Garrison, Lance had accepted but he found it difficult not to notice the fact that Rolo couldn’t bear to look him in the eye.

“You’re going to be there for Aly’s and Roberts wedding aren’t you?” His mom suddenly asked once they were back at the apartment. Graduations were usually times to be celebrated, but it was just him and his mom, having take-out pizza.

“Yeah.” Lance offered, of course he’d be there, his older brother was getting married. “I don’t know if I’ll be good company.”

Sofia didn’t say anything, she didn’t agree but she also didn’t disagree. They sat in silence eating pizza and watching T.V. Even Sofia didn’t know what it was that Lance needed.

 

A couple of days later, Lance’s mom came back to pick him up for Robert and Alyssa’s wedding. He climbed into the car on the seventh day on the trot since he’d gotten any sleep with a tiny packed bag, only filled with the suit he’d be wearing for the wedding. Sofia smiled and said hello, he offered her an attempt at a smile in response and stared out the car window for almost the entire journey.

Part way through the journey, Lance noticed they were pulling up at a familiar gas station. He stretched and climbed out of the car, needing to stretch his legs.

“Lance, can you get us some water please?” Sofia asked, throwing him her purse as she filled up the gas in the car.

“Why?” Lance asked bluntly.

“Because I asked you to.” Sofia shot him a withering gaze, Lance sighed and sauntered lazily over to the station, as he entered he grabbed some water bottles and felt his stomach hit the floor as he spotted a familiar face behind the counters.

The guy looked up at just the right time as he spotted Lance staring at him. He looked a little shocked at first and then smirked before breaking eye-contact to serve the customer approaching the counter.

Lance felt like he was going to vomit, it bought back such painful memories of when his and Keith’s relationship was toxic and shit. Lance new their relationship wasn’t perfect but, fuck they had yelled at each other a lot. He suddenly felt a crashing wave of guilt for being such a dick to Keith for so long, maybe if he’d realised how he’d felt about Keith earlier, things would be different. Keith might be here, with him, going to celebrate Robert and Aly’s wedding as his date.

Lance dropped the water bottles with a crash, the guy behind the counter glanced up, astonished. Lance’s chest felt like it was being crushed. It felt so unfair. He was so fucking angry, why had the universe done this to them? Done this to him? Done this to Keith.

It took Lance a couple of seconds to notice that everyone was staring at him, and the guy behind the counter was now knelt down beside him, Lance wasn’t even sure when he’d gotten to be on the floor. His cheeks felt wet.

“Lance? Are you okay?” The guy asked, obviously remembering who Lance was better than Lance remembered who he was. “Do you require assistance?”

Lance sucked in a deep breath, the guilt and sadness was now replaced with shame and embarrassment. He shook his head, grabbed the water bottles and stood.

“I’m fine.” Lance responded, the guy just nodded, thoroughly taken aback by Lance’s tone and the severe change in demeanour since last they met. He returned to serving the customer in front of Lance and Lance stared out the window, trying to avoid the other patrons’ curious gazes.

When Lance got to the counter, he gestured to the car that his mom was now sat in and placed the bottles of water onto the surface to be scanned.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The guy was asking too many questions and Lance was finding it hard to bite his tongue. “You seem really, really not okay.”

“Mind your own business, buddy.” Lance spoke lowly, threateningly. The guy raised his hands in a surrendering motion, but with a slight, almost knowing, smirk on his face.

“Is it the guy with the mullet?” He was smirking fully now, a cheeky, evil glint in his eye. Lance hated it, because this guy seemed to know that Lance would bite.

“Excuse me?” Lance squinted at him, he glanced down at the name tag on the guys shirt. “Lotor?”

“That’s me.” Lotor chuckled darkly. “So, I’m guessing I hit the nail on the head if you’re reacting like this. What happened? He break your heart?”

“I said, mind your own fucking business, buddy.” Lance slammed a fifty dollar bill down onto the counter in front of him, wishing more than anything for this exchange to be over before he really lost his temper.

“Ouch, sounds like it was bad.” Lotor grinned, Lance noticed how sharp his canines were. “So what’d he do? Fuck someone else? Or was he just not that into you?”

“Jeez, you really can’t handle it when someone doesn’t call you, huh?” Lance hissed, remembering Lotor’s insistence on giving Lance his number. Lotor’s grin turned into a grimace. “Fuck you and your pretty hair, you work in a fucking gas station, buddy. You don’t intimidate me.”

“Like what you do is any better.” Lotor raised his eyebrows, Lance felt the butterflies in his stomach as he said it.

“I’m in the Galaxy Garrison motherfucker. I’ve been to space, so suck my dick.” Lance spat.

Lotor shut his mouth, gave him a weird look and gave Lance his change, Lance grabbed the bottles and stormed out, feeling a little victorious for having gotten the last word in. Lance shrugged off the fact that what he’d just said was probably hideously classified, but who gave a shit about some random gas station attendant.

 

They pulled up at the house, Lance drank the rest of his water and climbed out of the car, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He could see people bustling about, getting everything ready, the sun was high in the sky and Lance missed the feeling of the rain on his skin. It was too stifling underneath the summer sun.

He pushed the front door open and immediately headed for his room, he heard someone call his name but opted to ignore them. But when he pushed the door to his room open his heart stuttered, because all he could imagine in his head was Keith in his bed, wrapped up and cozy under the covers when he came and stayed. Lance remembered entering the room to Keith like that at the time and almost joining him in his drunken haze.

Maybe if he had… what would it be like now? He dropped his bag on the floor and flopped onto the bed he was too numb and exhausted to even cry, even though he wanted to. He thought about falling asleep, so that he wouldn’t have to face anyone, but before he knew it, Rebecca had clambered onto his back after bursting through the door.

“Lancey Lance?” Rebecca’s voice was inquisitive, as if not sure how her brother would react, and much to her surprise, he just didn’t. He didn’t say anything or do anything, he just stayed there, staring at the wall to his right, his expression blank.

“I love you.” Rebecca whispered, she planted a kiss on the back of his head and escaped. Lance felt a tear roll down his cheek.

Lance didn’t want to be this way, to feel this way but everything hurt too much. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Would it be too much to have his mother take him back, would it be too rude for him to stay in bed the entire time?

He rolled over in the bed, facing the ceiling, his trainers still on his feet and stared. What else could he do? He hated thinking because all he could think about was painful memories and what if’s, he didn’t want to go and interact because he knew it’d be all ‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ and ‘how’re you holding up, champ?’.

After what felt like hours, he heard a soft knock on the door, he didn’t make a noise, but whoever it was entered anyway.

“Lance?”

Lance sat up violently, Keith?

But there was no one there, the door was shut, and it was dark outside. He felt a violent sob wrack through him and before he knew it, he was bawling into his sheets. Keith’s voice felt so… real, like he was right there, Lance tried to calm himself down before someone heard his despair.

Lance felt so fucking lonely.

He let himself drop back onto the bed and gathered as much of his sheets as he could around his head, trying to stifle his weeping. His breathing was choked as he let out all of the tears he should have been letting out months ago. This wasn’t grieving, he wasn’t grieving, these were angry tears, there was nothing to grieve but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like he was.

Soon, he’d cried himself to the point he was exhausted, it was the first time he’d slept in a week… but it didn’t feel good.

 

The next day, he woke and stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes were puffy and his cheeks were red, not only was he going to have to face everyone today, but he was going to have to do it looking like that. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the time, it was nearly time for them to leave and no one had bothered to wake him up, with good reason he supposed.

He was expecting to hear the hustle and bustle of his family getting ready for the big day, but there was nothing. Maybe they’d gone without him.

He pulled on his suit in any case and wandered down the stairs. He was correct, the house was empty, save for his father who he found sat with a cup of coffee at the table in the kitchen. He looked up as Lance entered.

“You look like shit.” Robert Sr. commented simply, Lance scoffed.

“Thanks.” Lance wasn’t even going to pretend to be nice today, he couldn’t remember what it meant to be nice anymore. He wandered past his father and poured himself a coffee.

“Fancy telling me why you didn’t call your mother for months.” Robert Sr. finally spoke. Lance didn’t even react, spooning some sugar into the hot liquid and stirring.

“Lance.” He spoke again, his voice beginning to get impatient.

“Pot kettle black.” Lance spoke simply, taking a sip, he went and stood by the window and gazed out of the windows.

“I’m sorry?” Robert Sr. countered, he’d never heard Lance speak to him like this.

“I just think it’s funny.” Lance turned to face him. “That you think you can ask me that question when before the last time I saw you, I hadn’t heard from you for three years.”

“Lance. Our situations are extremely different.” Lance’s dad didn’t break eye-contact, Lance knew this was where he got his stubbornness from.

“That is such a fucking poor excuse.” Lance sighed, taking another sip. “Please don’t start with me. I’m not in the mood.”

“The only reason that I am still here, in this house.” Robert Sr. stood, gesturing to the floor. “Is because I want you there on your brothers’ wedding day. Your mom was about to write you a note telling you not to bother because you obviously weren’t coping.”

“Dad-“

“No, Lance, I’m talking.” Robert snapped. Lance just raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his coffee. “Get over yourself. You’re being a pathetic child. Just because your ‘boyfriend’ is dead doesn’t mean that you get to behave like a spoilt brat.”

“I don’t want to go.” Lance shrugged, oozing nonchalance even though his heart was breaking at his father’s emphasis on the term boyfriend.

“Then why are you in your suit.” Robert shook his head. Lance looked down at himself, he couldn’t dispute that.

“I don’t have to justify myself to you!” Lance exclaimed. “Why do you suddenly care?!”

“I’ve always cared.” Robert Sr. continued, narrowing his eyes at Lance. “You know that, I’ve always cared.”

“I don’t know that.” Lance grunted. “You’re just up on your high horse because your son isn’t behaving the way that you’d like him to. I’m putting my toe out of line and you can’t cope with it. I’m not going to the wedding because I don’t want to be reminded of the future I might never have!”

Robert Sr. sucked in a breath. Lance sipped some more coffee and put it down on the surface beside him.

“I’m sorry, Lance.” Robert breathed. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, and I’m sorry about what I said, but your mother is making herself sick with worry over you.”

“Funny that.” Lance didn’t know when to stop apparently. “Reminds me of all the times she knew you were out on tour, knowing full well she wouldn’t hear from you for weeks if not months. Nice to I’m following in your footsteps.”

“Lance! Stop pushing me away! I’m trying to help you.” Robert cried, he was at a loss, he didn’t know how to get through to his own son.

“Stop trying. I don’t need you!” Lance yelled. “I don’t need ‘help’! I need people to just leave me alone, stop thinking you can suddenly care when it’s convenient for you, because I don’t want it.”

With that, Robert Sr. stood with his coffee, slopped it into the sink, turned and left. Lance breathed through his anger. The house was empty and silent, why was he here? Why was this happening? It was so unfair, he collapsed against the kitchen side and watched as more of the tears he couldn’t feel dropped onto the surface below.

He wondered if he’d ever feel okay again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Quintessence.”

The voices came back, the clinical, professional voices that were echoing through his head were back, talking about the same thing.

“We need to keep the cadaver’s heart beating for as long as we can take more specimens for testing.”

More of the same.

“I can’t believe it, this is the first time we’ve encountered a half-human, half-galra hybrid.”

Well, that was new.

“It’s probably for the best that the bastard’s dead. He was probably a filthy Galra spy.”

This was very new, very different. There was an anger in this voice.

“In that case, shouldn’t we notify General Coran?”

Back to the same.

“No. It’s for the best that we keep this between us, understood?”

“Understood, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3
> 
> tumblr - foxsmo-lder

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY! since a couple of you asked for it, here it is!  
> It will be multi-chapter, but certainly not as many as in the original DOTCP  
> I hope ya'll like angst as much as I like writing it!  
> there will be happy fluffy one-shots as a continutation from the main story of DOTCP!  
> I'll be posting alternating between the two equally.
> 
> tumblr - foxsmo-lder


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